He woke up to the scent of earth and plants. Like freshly dug ground when they cleared space around the village, but without the tinge of metal from shovels and posts to mark the area for building. There was something soft pressed up against his face, not a pillow, it felt like fur.
It was warm where he woke up. Strangely peaceful.
Even though he knew he wasn't home, he felt peaceful. There was no panic in that hazy moment between sleep and reality.
…It was calm.
Calmer than it should've been.
Wilbur opened his eyes to be met with black fur. Black fur under his head, pressed up against his cheek. Slowly he sat up, blinking sleep out of his eyes and reaching up to press his palm to his eyelids. A wisp of something cold touched his skin before retreating when he jolted.
There was a brief gust, drawing his attention over to the werewolf that had evidently been laying close by. Black hair, black eyes, scarred.
Quackity, he remembers.
The werewolf who got him out of the trap the other night.
"Glad to see you're awake," the other said, smiling at him.
…There were wolf ears on the top of his head. A wolf tail draped behind him. Wilbur doesn't remember him having those before, despite knowing the other was a werewolf. He had seen the other's wolf form but…this was different somehow.
One of those ears twitched, swiveling to the side slightly, "You passed out sometime before we got to the den. I already had a healer look at you and he said you'll be fine after a bit of rest. No magic required."
…Magic.
He always forgets that's a factor with werewolves. That they're creatures of magic and mystery as much as they were primal strength. He should've remembered that when the other offered to heal him the other night. Er…get one of his pack members to help him, he supposes.
Wilbur glanced down at his ankle, making an attempt to rotate it and finding it a bit sore still. But not nearly as bad as he was the other night.
"Thank you," he eventually muttered.
"It was the least I could do considering you were stuck in a snare meant for one of us," Quackity responded, shifting over to sit at his side. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," he responded, trying to not get too tense at the other's presence. "I probably need another day to fully recover but I can leave if you want me out."
"Oh nonsense," the werewolf grinned at him sharply. "You stay as long as you need to recover. And even more so if you want. It's not often we have guests!"
His ears twitched to face forward well before the shout came.
"Quackity! Knock it off!" A woman shouted from what Wilbur assumed was the mouth of the den.
"I'm not DOING anything!" Quackity called back.
"Don't LIE to me!" A pink haired werewolf stormed in, her eyes were red and she wore leather armor and a cloak. "How many times do we have to tell you no kidnapping!?"
"I'm not kidnapping him, Niki!" Quackity gestured at him then. "He needs another day and I'm JUST SAYING that if he WANTS to stay longer he CAN."
"Yeah right," the woman, Niki he supposes, snarls as her ears pull back. "Because you have absolutely zero intentions of keeping him here until Slime returns from his patrol to check what rank he'd be. That's not at all what you're doing. How could I ever assume you wanted to keep him."
Wilbur was suddenly extremely uncomfortable with the tension in the cave. Subtly trying to shift away from the dark eyed werewolf sitting at his side. Though his movement quickly drew Quackity's attention.
"Ignore her," the werewolf insisted with a grin. "She's exaggerating."
"Bite risk," Niki growled back, pointing at him.
The other whipped his head around, "I AM NOT A BITE RISK!"
"BITE RISK!" She shouted louder.
"BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!" Vines lashed into the cave, both of them snagging around the two werewolves.
They were pulled away from each other, Quackity dragged a few paces away from him as a third werewolf entered the den from a hidden tunnel he hadn't noticed before. She had brown hair and matching brown wolf ears, a crown of roses on her head. She was draped in furs over a dark forest green dress, her tail lashing behind her as emerald green eyes darted from Niki to Quackity, and then finally landing on him.
She sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Sorry about them," she said, nodding to him after letting her hands rest at her sides. "I'm Hannah, by the way. The pink haired wolf is my mate, Niki. And you've already met Quackity."
Hannah raised her hand and the vines released both other werewolves.
Wilbur just. Stared. Blankly for a minute.
Maybe he should try to bolt if they start arguing again. He had no idea what they meant by bite risk but he didn't feel like finding out.
"I think we broke him," Niki commented.
"Well maybe if you two wouldn't bicker like pups in front of him-"
Didn't werewolves actually turn humans into other werewolves via biting? Yeah he should probably try to get out of here if one of them is, evidently, a bite risk. If that's what they're referring too anyways.
Quackity just growled, curling his tail around himself and glaring in the other two's direction.
"-Quackity knock it off," Hannah deadpanned, glaring back.
"Tell Niki to stop calling me a bite risk then! I'm not a bite risk!" He snapped back.
"We all call you a bite risk," Niki sneered. "Ever since you got bit by that shadow wolf-"
Okay they're arguing again maybe he could sneak around behind Hannah? He'd have to go slow because of his ankle but he might be able to get away before any of them realize he's gone. He's a hunter by trade, he'd like to think he's pretty quiet when he wants to be. Hell they haven't even really looked at him since Hannah acknowledged him earlier-
"Can we NOT do this in front of the human!" Hannah stated, slamming her foot down and causing both other werewolves to immediately quiet. "He's already overwhelmed, completely lost, and probably this close to trying to bolt out of the damn den because of you two!"
…Wilbur didn't care to admit how accurate that was as all three werewolves proceeded to look at him. He may have jolted a little. Maybe.
Niki blinked for a second before slapping her palm to her forehead, "You were about to try and sneak out, weren't you?"
"…Uh," he trailed off quietly. "Well I should be fine to get home. It's just a small injury. I'll be fine. Clearly you have other things to worry about-"
Quackity growled, cutting him off entirely, "Yeah right. You aren't going anywhere, little hunter. Not for another day at least."
"Quackity we can't keep him here," Hannah hissed, glancing from him to Wilbur. "If he wants to leave we need to let him go. Foolish already said he'll be fine."
"After a bit of rest!" The dark eyed werewolf argued, throwing his hands up into the air to emphasize his point. "You don't see me sending any of you out of the den when you're hurt! Minor injuries or no! What if he stumbles into another trap? Does something to make his ankle worse? Runs into some other-!"
"Great he's starting to mother hen," Niki snickered. "Why so concerned for him? If he's a hunter he'll be able to navigate the forest just fine, isn't that right?"
She turned to gesture for him to speak.
Wilbur glanced from her to Quackity and back again. He really did not want to be in the middle of this argument.
"…Yes I can navigate the forest just fine, I wouldn't hunt at night if I couldn't," he eventually responded. "However if this… healer of yours recommended a bit more rest first, I know better than to question their word. Admittedly if it wasn't for Quackity I probably would've died in that snare unless one of the hunters thought to check it. Regardless, I should probably leave when there's sunlight out. Judging from the general energy between you three, I'm assuming the moon is out."
Hannah's ears twitched slightly, "This is true. It… wouldn't be smart for you to wander right now. It's not like we're the only pack in the area."
"Ha!" Quackity smirked, crossing his arms with this smug look on his face.
Niki's tail stilled as she started growling in his direction.
"Both of you, knock it off," Hannah stated, looking exhausted as she rubbed her temples. "Okay. Human, uh… Wilbur, right?"
He nodded.
"Okay. Wilbur. Generally I would recommend you stay for a bit longer in the den until we're sure your ankle is healed and you'll have a clear path home when the sun comes out. If you want to leave at any point before that, however, you are within your right to do so," Hannah told him. "We won't stop you."
"Quackity might," Niki teased.
Wilbur couldn't see what happened next but he's pretty sure Quackity threw something at her with how she dodged out of the way of something and almost immediately tried to rush at him. Hannah caught her before she could get very far though.
The human glanced over his shoulder to look at Quackity, the werewolf meeting his gaze and smiling at him again.
Something about the grin felt dangerous as much as it was charming.
The wolf had green fur.
Somehow, this managed to not be all that surprising.
They had blue eyes, green fur, and stared at him with their muzzle gaping open. Sitting down almost immediately upon seeing him. It was a deceptively human expression on the wolf's face.
"Uh oh," Niki muttered, propping her head up with her hand. "You're something impressive."
"What… the hell is going on?" Wilbur muttered.
"Slime? Slime what is he! Tell me what he is!" Quackity said, bolting over to the side of the green wolf's side. "You've gotta tell me! I'm curious!"
The green wolf just continued to stare before eventually standing back up, turning around, and walking away.
"Oh you're really impressive," Niki commented. "Quackity isn't going to let this go for weeks."
"Slime! SLIME! GET BACK HERE!" Quackity transformed into his wolf form in an instant, chasing after the green furred wolf. "SLIME!"
"What was that about?" Wilbur asked, turning to look at the red eyed wolf next to him.
Niki shook her head with a sigh, "Werewolves… we're kind of born with ranks. And each rank determines what kind of powers you have. Me, for example. I'm a delta. The hunter. I've got the best stamina of the pack and the strongest sense of smell. There's nothing I can't track. Hannah is a beta, the guardian. She can sense the second a foreign wolf enters our territory. And she's also the strongest person here, physically at least."
She gestured to where the other two ran off, "Foolish, our healer, is a theta. He can't fix scars or long term injuries. But he can help speed up the healing process and can ease the symptoms of sickness. As for the other two… Slime is a gamma. He can see the ranks of werewolves and the potential rank a human would gain should they become a werewolf. He can also copy the abilities of standard ranks to help fill out the pack better."
Wilbur raised an eyebrow, "So… that reaction just now…"
"Probably to your potential rank," Niki shrugged. "That reaction tells me he saw something impressive about you. So of course, now Quackity wants to know what you would be."
The human tensed up a little at that only for her to flick her tail over to brush against his leg.
"Relax," she told him. "Nobody is going to turn you against your will. When you're ready to leave, you can leave. Doesn't matter which rank you'd be."
…That was…sort of reassuring, he supposes. Better than nothing at least.
"So… what about Quackity?" Wilbur asked. "What rank is he?"
Niki's expression…twisted for a second. Anger flashing in her eyes before calming into something more…regretful.
"He used to be an alpha," she explained. "The mediator. Typically the leader of a pack because their powers allow them to telepathically link the pack together. So they can communicate long distances, sense our emotions, help calm us down."
"I'm not sure what he is anymore. Not since he was…"
She trailed off, her ears pulling back against her head as she growled low to herself.
"Don't let him bite you," Niki told him. "If you ever do decide to become a werewolf, at any point, are ever offered to join a pack, know this: A wolf with pitch black eyes is not the one you should let bite you. Under any circumstances."
Wilbur isn't sure why that felt so eerie. Isn't sure why he felt a chill go down his spine at the other's warning. Not sure why he took it to heart in that moment, why he took those words and promised mentally to remember them.
It wasn't like he'd consider becoming a werewolf.
It…lingered in his mind regardless.
Hannah and Quackity padded on either side of him in wolf form, walking him back to the snare trap Quackity had originally found him in. His ankle wasn't fully healed, but the sun had risen, and Foolish had given them the go ahead to take him back to what the theta wolf had called 'human territory'.
Currently his hand rested on Quackity's black fur, the werewolf helping him keep his balance as they made their way through the forest. Gentle sunlight drifting through the leaves, casting splotchy shadows along the ground. Generally he picked up on the vibe that the large wolf was uncomfortable with something, but he insisted anyways to help Wilbur back to where he found him. From there, Wilbur assured him he could find his way back.
Hannah, he's at least half convinced, was just there to keep an eye on Quackity. She had seemed surprised when he offered to help Wilbur back.
She was a gorgeous wolf, only slightly smaller than Quackity. Her brown fur streaked with darker brown swirling markings. She also clearly had more muscle on her than most of the other wolves in the pack did, which he supposes was a beta trait.
Eventually, Quackity stopped. Causing Wilbur to stop, and thus signaling for Hannah to stop. The werewolf raised his head up, sniffing at the air. His tail stilling behind him as he glanced through the foliage.
He lifted a paw before pressing it back down into the ground. Claws digging into the dirt as the shadows around him seemed to…shift.
Hannah growled a little before Quackity shot her a look.
The shadows…changed almost. Forming a long strand that darted forward into the bushes and onward.
Wilbur didn't say anything, keeping his eyes open and senses alert for any kind of threat.
Eventually the shadow returned, curling around Quackity and resting near his ear. The werewolf huffed after a few minutes, shaking out his fur and causing the shadow to…dissolve almost. Returning to their original state on the ground as he started moving again.
Wilbur would've commented on how weird that was if it wasn't for the general hushed quiet that had fallen over the group. He really didn't feel like asking questions. In his opinion, he knew enough about werewolves at this point. He didn't feel like learning more.
Eventually they reached the site of the trap. Still laying cut on the ground scattered with his belongings that they had forgotten to pick up. Including his hunting knife and his bow and arrows. He really didn't think he could express his relief kneeling down to refill his quiver and sling his bow back across his shoulders. Nor how nice it was to finally have his knife back on his hip.
He picked up the trap them, scowling in disdain.
"I'm going to give those bastards such an earful," he muttered, mostly to himself but earning a snort from the wolves in the bushes.
He glanced over his shoulder, seeing both of them crouched down in the brush, but not coming into the clearing. He supposes this is as far as they'd take him.
"Thank you," he said, nodding to the both of them. "For the escort and for helping me. Hopefully with this little… incident."
He held the broken trap up to emphasize his point, "The village will demand a cut back on these traps. After all, I'm the best hunter they've got. There's going to be at least some slight outrage."
Neither of them said anything. He's not sure if they could in this form or not. But regardless, he nodded to them again. He found himself almost reluctant to turn away from them, but he had nothing more to say outside of a quick goodbye. Finally parting ways with the two werewolves.
The trek back to the village didn't feel like a long journey. It never really did unless he was carrying quarry with him. Which, speaking of he made sure to check his rabbit traps on his way back in. He'd like to have something to go back with but alas, nothing. It was probably time to move his snares then.
Regardless, the trip back didn't take him too long. He was back home by midday. Emerald green and forest browns fading into the tan houses, warm yellow hay, and worn paths of the village. His home, the only home he had ever known really.
A few of the guards greeted his return, expressing that they were getting worried. Wilbur couldn't offer much in return, just told them there was a reason he was delayed like that. Explaining he had a bone to pick with the werewolf hunters as he held up the trap for their inspection. They seemed to get the picture soon after. Wilbur stormed further into the village, waving briefly to some of his fellow hunters. They saw the look of his gaze, however. They knew he was hunting even now.
Eventually he found a group of them. Self proclaimed werewolf hunters that had come into their village unannounced. Had claimed that they would protect them from werewolves when werewolves had never really been a concern of theirs. It wasn’t like they were a large group. A party of five, and three of them here now in front of him.
He threw the broken trap at their feet.
"Good going," Wilbur mocked, clapping his hands. "You managed to catch everything except for a werewolf."
Immediately the scene drew multiple eyes, the hunter crossing his arms.
"You call yourselves hunters?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow. "You make a mockery of my trade. How often do you check your traps? Because if I had been caught in this stupid thing for much longer, you fools would've killed me. Thankfully another hunter from a different village showed me some kindness and got me down. Though I sprained my ankle and had to stay in his camp for a day to recover."
The werewolf hunters visibly became more hostile.
"Maybe you wouldn't have gotten caught if you didn't hunt at night!" One of the werewolf hunters accused.
One member of the gathering crowd openly laughed.
"Wilbur ALWAYS hunts at night. He's never had this problem before!"
"The deer like to move under the cover of darkness," Wilbur huffed. "It's the best time to hunt, really. And the amount of times I've gotten hurt during my night hunting has purely been when I was young and inexperienced. This is at least the third incident where one of your traps has hurt someone, don't act like we haven't been keeping track."
At least one of them had the decency to look embarrassed.
"So far you haven't proven yourselves to be capable of help around here," the hunter hissed. "Cut back on these stupid werewolf traps and start actually carrying your weight before you get run off. This is the only warning I'm willing to give you."
And with that, he turned away, exhausted, frustrated, and ready to just curl up in his home next to his fireplace.
For as much as he was glad to be home again, it was better getting a complete all clear on his ankle and being able to go out hunting again. For as much as he lectured the werewolf hunters about pulling their weight, he had to pull his as well. So with his bow in hand and arrows fully restocked, he set off into the forest on the night of a waning crescent. It would be a new moon soon, within the next couple of nights he'd assume.
Getting to that point where he had to carry a lantern with him just to make sure he had some visibility in the dark trees of the forest. But he wasn't worried really. He had done this a thousand times over, had danced this waltz with the moon's cycles repeatedly over his lifetime. He never lied when he said deer preferred to move at night. It really was the best time to try and hunt.
He eventually found himself set up in some bushes, low to the ground and staking out a trail that had some deer tracks. Making sure to dim his lantern so the light wouldn't be obvious. If more moved through here, excellent. If not? Oh well, he'll have to find a different spot. But considering how fresh the tracks were it couldn't have been too long since some deer passed through-
"Back so soon?" An amused whisper came, causing the hunter to jolt and glance to the side.
Quackity grinned back at him, "What? Surprised to see me?"
Wilbur felt himself blank entirely for a second before slowly nodding, turning back to the trail and trying to ignore the dark eyed werewolf.
"I wasn't expecting to see you again at all, really," he admitted quietly. "Let alone so soon."
"Well your village does border our territory," the werewolf hummed. "I'm surprised we've never run into each other before considering your little habit of hunting at night."
"Normally if I don't want to be noticed I won't," Wilbur shrugged a little. "And you probably had better things to focus on than a random human from the village."
The other hummed for a second, the hunter able to glimpse a twitch of the other's ear out of the corner of his eye.
"Perhaps," Quackity relented. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" The taller responded. "Hunting. Or, more accurately stalking. Deer tracks, fresh. Waiting to see if any more pass through this area."
The werewolf hummed then. Wilbur heard him shift a little before he felt a weight pressed lightly into his side. He didn't look, already knowing the werewolf leaned on him.
"I'm going to watch you, if you don't mind."
Wilbur almost told him he would mind. Almost.
But eventually he decided against being rude to the werewolf that saved him. If Quackity wanted to sit there and watch, he could. It wasn't like he'd be bothered by an audience.
Besides, the other was a wolf in part. He knew the shorter would respect the trade and keep his voice down if he even spoke at all.
Though it seemed he grew quite content just sitting there, leaning up against him.
No deer crossed through the trail again.
Wilbur didn't see fit to move despite his better judgment. He stayed there, letting Quackity lean on him. As it grew later into the night, he eventually admitted that he had to move to find a different spot.
The werewolf offered to show him a river that got a lot of traffic through the forest. It's a bit deeper into his pack's territory, but worth it. Many animals visited that area.
Wilbur agreed, after a bit of debate, eventually agreed.
He was still on guard for a majority of the trip there and back, but Quackity remained true to his word.
It was a good spot.
Wilbur returned to the village by sunrise with plenty of food for the next few days. Though that wouldn't stop him from setting out again in another night or so soon.
He…had a feeling he might have a friend waiting to see him.
The first time Quackity used his shadows on him, it was the new moon night a few days later. At that point he had gotten used to seeing Quackity when he went out hunting, and he wasn't bothered by the werewolf's presence. In fact, he'd even say the other was welcome to watch him.
Genuinely, Wilbur hadn't expected to see him at all on the new moon, however. It was at least a somewhat well known fact that werewolves transformed during a full moon and were weaker when there was no moonlight to begin with.
But there was something about Quackity that night.
He seemed stronger.
The shadows came to rest around Wilbur's eyes, and suddenly everything became brighter in his vision. Or…rather like he could see clearly through the darkness. He had to ease the tension in the drawstring then, surprised and not willing to potentially hurt himself trying to hold it back.
He glanced over his shoulder, and saw the werewolf leaning up against a tree.
Quackity grinned at him, waved a little.
Wilbur raised an eyebrow back before turning and readjusting his shot with the new vision.
Easily he took down the deer he had been aiming for. Breathing a sigh of relief at finally having caught something that night. He always did struggle with no moonlight to help him since he had to dim his lantern to not startle anything away from him.
Before he really processed it, the werewolf was leaning up against him, tilting his head against his arm.
"How does your weapon work?" Quackity asked. "To take down a deer like that with a single blow?"
Wilbur turned slightly to look at the werewolf, still surprised by how clearly he could see with the shadows in his eyes.
"Do you want me to show you?" He asked. "Or just explain it?"
"Both," the shorter said.
The human just…shrugged a little at the other's curiosity. Reaching around to pull an arrow from his quiver.
"A bow works in two components, the arrow, and the bow itself," he explained, holding out the arrow for the other's inspection. "This is an arrow. You'll notice that it's tipped with sharpened stone to create a point. This focuses all the impact on one point, allowing it to pierce skin and muscle efficiently."
"What's with the feathers?" Quackity asked, reaching out to run his finger over the feathers at the tip of the arrow.
"That's the fletching," Wilbur nodded. "It helps stabilize the arrow when it flies. Reducing the likelihood of it flying off in a different direction from where you were aiming. We hunters also typically use the feathers as a calling card. Each of us in the village use different feathers for our arrows."
He turned the arrow around to show the shorter between the feathers, "And you'll see a notch right there. That's for the string of the bow."
He took the arrow and proceeded to notch it, taking it slow so the werewolf could watch how it was done.
"The trick here is to make sure to keep your arm level," Wilbur told him. "Also, don't pull back on the draw string until you're ready to fire. Trying to hold it to aim will strain your arm and you might hurt yourself. Aim before you draw. Once you have your shot lined up…"
He pulled back on the draw string and released, nailing a nearby tree with his arrow.
"And because of how the bow is designed, it fires the arrow at a much faster speed than just throwing it would, with more strength behind it as well," he continued. "Thus, making it a very lethal weapon and capable of bringing down something like a deer in one shot."
Wilbur lowered the bow, glancing at Quackity. Quackity, who seemed completely enraptured by his explanation.
The hunter couldn't help but smile a little, "Do you want to try it?"
"If you don't mind of course," the werewolf nodded.
The human held out his bow for the shorter to take, falling into the same practiced guidance he's done time and time again for new hunters in the village learning to shoot for the first time.
"Remember, hold the bow with your weaker arm, use your strong one to pull the drawstring," he adjusted Quackity's hold a little. "Also, keep in mind this is built for human strength. So only use what's necessary for you. Obviously this won't strain your arms as much as it does mine."
He reached out to gently brush the curve of his bow, "When you pull back, the wood will bend. This is normal, don't freak out. Though be mindful if you're pulling to hard, it is possible to break the wood and snap the string. Trust me, I've had bows break on me before."
The werewolf huffed a little, but was listening intently as Wilbur handed him an arrow.
"Rest the arrow against the middle of the bow as you notch it. It might take a few tries, but it comes easier with practice," the taller nodded a little as the dark eyed wolf followed his instructions. "When you fire this thing, there will be a bit of recoil. Keep in mind this string is going to snap forward the second you release it."
Quackity lifted the weapon to aim at the same tree Wilbur had hit earlier. The hunter adjusted his aim slightly, lifting the werewolf's arms a little higher.
"Keep yourself level, even as you pull back on the draw string. You don't want to throw off your aim with improper form," the human slowly, carefully helped the shorter use the correct amount of force to pull back on the drawstring as well as keeping the other's arm from instinctively trying to tilt up. "And once you're sure…"
They both let go, the arrow flying, and hitting right next to where Wilbur's last shot had struck.
Quackity barked out a sharp laugh, his tail wagging and brushing against the human's legs repeatedly.
Wilbur just grinned a little at the other's joy.
"See? Easy as that," the taller chuckled. "It takes a bit of practice to maintain form and proper aim, but the mechanics are easy enough. Now let's go survey the damage."
The werewolf was already bounding ahead of him, laughing the entire time. Shadows flickered harmlessly across the human's skin as he chased after the shorter.
He noticed them this time, but despite Niki's warning, he didn't feel threatened by them. More focused on the bright fanged grin waiting for him by the tree.